


The Imitation of Violet

by lindseyluvsdrag



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF, rpdr - Fandom
Genre: F/M, RuPaul's Drag Race References, Violet Chachki - Freeform, pearl liaison - Freeform, pearlet, rpdr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindseyluvsdrag/pseuds/lindseyluvsdrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Racism in the 1950s. Inspired by the 1956 film, Imitation of Life</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Imitation of Violet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Huruhara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huruhara/gifts).



The Autumn of 1956 was the hardest of her young life…

———-

With soft billowy waves of blonde hair brushing past her shoulders, Violet tapped her freshly manicured nails against the mahogany table as her fellow student council members racked their brains for homecoming theme ideas. All dressed in varying colors of the same cashmere sweater and full poodle skirts with perfectly sculpted hairstyles, the group was considered the epitome of class at Southern California High School.

“What about circus?” Fame suggested.

“With a name like, Gertrude, you belong in a circus,” Sharon teased.

“I told you to call me Miss Fame! Fame for short,” the brunette with perfect makeup scowled.

“Because you’re going to be a movie star,” she mocked in a nasally voice.

“Why I oughta -”

“Girls,” Maxine, the council’s silver-haired president, clapped.

“And here comes miss ‘oh so wise because my hair went gray at fourteen’.”

“Sharon, why did you even join this club?”

“Because Vampira has my dream job,” she chuckled.

“Germ,” she rolled her eyes.

“How about a Candyland theme?” Sharon finally offered.

“That’s a start,” was Maxine’s lukewarm response.

“Masquerade,” Violet slapped the table.

“Yes!” the president clapped.

“You have a fabulous mind, new girl,” Fame complimented.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “But I transferred two months ago, I’m not the new girl anymore.”

“Absolutely not. She’s now a valuable member of our circle,” Maxine deemed.

“Don’t look now, but here comes testosterone,” Sharon warned.

“It’s Matt, Max,” Fame teased in a sing-song voice.

Quickly pulling out her compact, the grey-haired beauty powdered her nose and assured that she didn’t have red lipstick on her teeth.

“Hey dolls,” the devastatingly handsome boy greeted. Slightly waved sandy brown hair combed to one side and bright blue eyes, the quarterback of the football team was the most popular kid in school; girls wanted him and boys wanted to be him.

“Hi, Matt,” every girl, except Violet, swooned.

“Violet,” he smiled.

“Matthew James,” was her nonchalant reply.

“I told you it’s fine to call me Matthew or just Matt,” he reminded in a friendly tone.

“I prefer your full name. It has a nice ring to it.”

“Okay,” he chortled. “What’s the buzz?”

“We-” Sharon got out before being cut off by Maxine.

“We’ve worked out the homecoming theme. It’s masquerade.”

“That’s nice,” Matt admitted.

“Very Romeo and Juliet,” she said in a low whisper.

“Speaking of such romance…” he trailed off as he locked eyes with Violet. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

Maxine glowered at Violet in an attempt to communicate her unspoken territory that was Matthew James.

Oblivious to the gaze, the blonde beauty replied. “Sure…when pigs fly,” she smirked.

There were low gasps around the table.

“Are you going to make me ask in front of everyone?” Matt chuckled.

“I’m sure these girls would love to hear the prattle that is sure to come out of your mouth.”

“Take notes ladies,” the boy advised. “That is how you break a man’s heart in ten seconds or less.”

Maxine’s lip twitched in distaste.

“When you become a man, let us know,” Violet smirked as she dismissed him with a wave of her porcelain hand.

Reveling in the challenge, he continued. “A few of the fellas and I are going to Pop’s after practice…would you like to come?”

“Say yes,” Fame urged in a low whisper before Maxine shot daggers in her direction.

“I’d love to bless you with my presence, but my father is finally coming home after his business transactions in Italy and he wants to take me to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yes,” Maxine exaggerated. “The same father who is a powerful entrepreneur that schmoozes with the likes of Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra and who could get you barred from any club in California with a single phone call.”

“That’s my father alright,” Violet smiled.

“Don’t remind me,” Matt exhaled. “I’m sure you’re worth being barred from California for, though,” he smiled.

“Matthew James,” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Ah, noodles! I’ll see you dolls later!” he said as he ran towards the football field.

“Violet, when do we get to see this mansion of yours that overlooks the Pacific ocean?” Fame asked.

“My mother is quite strict. People aren’t allowed over, unless it’s a party of course.”

“So throw a party!” Sharon insisted.

“She typically throws them when her famous friends are in town,” Violet shrugged. “Elizabeth Taylor is the sweetest.”

“Tell us more,” Fame urged.

She glanced at her watch. “I will next week,” she quickly grabbed her books before standing up.

“Is your chauffeur here?” Maxine patronized.

“He should be. See you ladies on Monday,” Violet blew a kiss before rushing away.

———-

“Hello there, little lady,” the driver greeted with a smile.

“Hi,” Violet exhaled as she paid her fare for the third bus of the afternoon before quickly claiming her favorite window seat near the back. The public transportation pulled off and the girl watched as the massive homes faded into rickety shacks, green lawns turned to dirt and her fantasies shattered into the dejected world that was her reality.

After the final twenty minute commute, the driver was signaled for her stop. Violet skipped down the three steps and ran to the minuscule two bedroom house under the glow of the setting sun.

The living room, dining area, and kitchen of the home was all one big space with a short corridor connecting the bedrooms. Quaintly decorated in secondhand furniture, the humble abode would make any modest homeowner proud; except Violet.

“Buenas tardes.” Good afternoon, baby. The dark skinned, middle aged woman greeted as she tied the apron on her maid uniform. Storming past her, Violet entered her bedroom and slammed the door. She sat at her vanity and ran a hand through her artificially tinted hair as she ignored the light knocking on the door.

“Veradisia,” the woman called.

“Don’t call me that,” Violet hissed. “That’s not my name.”

“Es un nombre hermoso. Perteneció a tu abuela.” It’s a beautiful name. It belonged to your grandmother.

“I don’t care who it belonged to and I refuse to speak to you if you insist on using this third world language,” she snapped.

“Sorry,” the woman said in a heavy Ecuadorian accent. “How was your day? You are enjoying the student club?”

“It was fine,” she replied coldly.

“You are still mad at me for the old school?”

Violet narrowed her eyes at her reflection in the mirror.

“Vera-”

“Yes!” she exploded. “You just want to find reasons to ruin my life. I could’ve gone a day without my coat; you showed up and destroyed everything I’d worked for. Now I’ll happily continue to wake up at four in the morning and catch three buses to get to South rather than a school where I’ll be deemed as trash…because of you. I’ll never be able to show my face east of 125th Street again because of you. Stop telling people that I’m your daughter!”

“Pero tu- but you are my daughter. It makes me proud to have such a beautiful daughter…I wished you felt that way about me,” she hung her head.

“You’re cursed,” Violet breathed. “You chose to live in a country where you’ll be treated like nothing more than dirt. You’ll have to live with the torment of being Spanish. You can’t help your ethnicity, your color…but I can,” she brushed long pale fingers against her pink cheek.

“It hurts me when you say things like this,” the woman sniffled.

“Get over it, Lucinda. I have a chance at a better life. A life where being a cook or a maid aren’t my only options and you won’t stop me.”

“A false life isn’t a good life. You hurt yourself by denying who you are. You are Ecuadorian. You-”

“I’m white!” the girl screeched. “Do you think I’d have the job that I do if I wasn’t? Do you think the kids at my school would treat me as nice as they do if they knew I was bred from a Spanish maid and a white soldier who left when he found out she was with child?! No! Nobody wants your kind; nobody wants a Latino child,” Violet sighed. “I’m going to be everything the world thinks I am…and more.”

With no coherent response, Lucinda wept as she stepped away from her daughter’s bedroom door and grabbed her purse; leaving the house to make it to her second job on time.

“You’re white,” Violet assured her reflection until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.

———-

“It’s Saturday,” Violet sang as she entered Haus of Fabrics; her place of employment for the past month.

“And good things always happen on Saturdays,” she said in unison with her manager, Alyssa.

“Did the Swarovski fabric arrive yet?” she hung her coat on the rack.

“Child, you ask me this everyday,” the Texas native laughed. “Not yet, baby.”

“It was such a rare find, I just knew we had to order it for the store.”

“For the store or for you?”

“Well, the store can have the leftover pieces,” she giggled. “My designer has been scouring the planet for a fabric worthy of my homecoming dress. I think this is it.”

“Girl, you might as well work for fabrics. You spend ninety percent of your paycheck here,” she laughed.

“Well, everything I wear is handmade by my French seamstress darling. I’m always on the lookout for the best material.”

“Well, take a break from your search and get busy with this inventory,” she grinned.

———-

“Violet, I’m going to grab a bite to eat for lunch, do you want me to bring you something?” Alyssa asked.

“No thank you. I have to keep this waist small,” she chuckled.

“Girl, you need to eat!” the brunette cackled. “You’re only seventeen, you’re a growing girl.”

“I’ll take a Coke,” the blonde groaned.

“That’s more like it,” she before exiting the shop.

Being alone in the shop allowed Violet to explore wonderland. Aisles of beautiful linens and embroidered cloths that could be shaped into dresses inspired by the glamorous lifestyle she had fabricated.

“I don’t think I’ve used this one yet,” Violet mumbled to herself as she pulled the pale blue taffeta off of the shelf. Unraveling a few yards, she wrapped the fabric around her torso and posed in the mirror. She was snapped back to reality when the bell hanging above the door chimed, signaling that someone had entered the store. “I’ll be right with you,” she announced before tucking the material back into its spot.

Violet made her way to the front of the store and instantly recognized the back of the boy’s head as he admired the shelf that held nearly one thousand spools of thread. She quickly snatched off her nametag and tossed it underneath the counter.

“Matthew James,” she greeted coolly.

“Violet,” he beamed when he turned around. “You work here?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “My father owns this place and I just like hanging around sometimes.”

“It’s the bee’s knees! I’m fascinated by this wall of string…stuff. It’s even organized by color; impressive.”

“Thanks. Um, what are you doing here?”

“My old lady sent me to pick up something called ‘organza’,” Matt groaned.

“What color and how many yards?”

“Purple and uh…two.”

“There are quite a few shades of purple,” she informed. “Lilac, mauve, per-”

“Violet,” he grinned.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Follow me.”

———-

“This is organza,” the girl gestured to the rows of the shimmering fabric.

“Sharp,” the boy complimented.

“This is mauve,” she stretched, pointing to the fabric on the top shelf.

With admiring eyes, Matt followed every move and curvature of her silhouette.

“And this is violet…”

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

Glancing up at him, the girl became lost in the boy’s clear blue eyes before looking away.

“If you’re ready, I’ll check you out,” Violet said in a professional tone.

“I’ve been ready for you to check me out for a long time now,” he smirked.

“I don’t think my father would appreciate you being so sly in his place of business,” she chuckled, pulling the fabric he had selected off of the shelf.

“Dang nabbit,” the boy grimaced. “But he owns everything,” he complained.

“Then that means you should watch what you say to me.”

Matt gave a half-smile. “How was your dinner date with him?”

“Amazing. But I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Matthew James.”

“I just wanted to-”

“That’ll be seventy-five cents,” she said curtly.

He pulled the coins out of his pocket and placed them into her impatient hand.

“Thank you. Have a nice day,” Violet dismissed when the transaction was complete.

“Are you busy tonight?” Matt bit his lip.

“I’m very busy,” she said as if it was obvious.

“Tomorrow?”

“Even busier. Dean Martin is coming over.”

“Wow,” he exhaled, even more impressed. “Then I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

She nodded before watching him leave. Retrieving her name tag, Violet finished out the day’s work; cataloging her lies for future references.

———-

Sunday mornings. The only time Lucinda had off work and she preferred to spend them with her daughter. She flipped the pancakes as she attempted to make conversation.

“That blue fabric is for your homecoming dress?”

“No,” she murmured as she studied the page in her magazine. Dean Martin’s wife is named Jeanne…he has two dogs…

“So just ano-” Lucinda let out a violent cough. “Another day dress? It will be pretty.”

“Of course it will. In fact, I’ll start working on it now,” the girl pushed herself off of the small tweed couch.

“But I want to talk to y-” she was interrupted by another rough cough.

“Do you really think I want to be around a cesspool of germs? I’m not eating,” Violet slammed the door to her bedroom.

“I went to the doctor…” Lucinda exhaled.

———-

“Oh, Violet!” Fame gasped Monday morning. “This dress is gorgeous.”

“Thank you so much,” she gave a slow twirl in the fitted, off the shoulder, pale blue ensemble. “My father brought it all the way from Italy.”

“I hate your waist,” Sharon frowned.

“As you should,” was her smug reply.

“Ahem,” Maxine cleared her throat. “Are we going to stand here and talk about a dress or are we going to class?”

“I don’t see why we can’t do both,” Violet giggled as they made their way down the hallway. They turned the next corner, stopping dead in their tracks as the young Hispanic custodian swept the floor.

“Spic,” Max hissed.

“Aren’t they supposed to do this stuff at night so that nobody has to see them?” Sharon asked.

“Bean!” Violet shouted.

The boy looked up with fear in his eyes. “No hablo Ingles,” I don’t speak English, he informed in a timid voice.

“What is he saying?” Fame cowered.

“No idea,” the blonde lied as she grabbed her friend’s hand protectively. “But he obviously doesn’t speak English.”

“If they’re going to invade our country then these things should be mandatory,” Maxine rolled her eyes.

“You’re in our way and we refuse to simply walk past you,” Violet scowled.

“Hey dollies,” Matt greeted from the other end of the corridor.

“Matt,” Maxine feigned a damsel in distress.

He made his way towards them. “Hey Luis,” he greeted as he passed the other boy. He replied with a nervous smile, eliciting low gasps from the group of girls.

“What’s eating you gals?” he asked as he took in their demeanor.

“You talk to the help,” Sharon accused.

“He’s here everyday and he seems nice enough. Why not?” Matt shrugged.

“Because he’s a bean,” Violet scowled.

“You’re much too pretty to say such things,” he laughed before his eyebrows furrowed. “I just don’t understand it. He’s a human too. Put yourself in his shoes; how wo-”

“I’ll never be a filthy Spaniard,” she hissed.

“Okay,” he held up his hands as if she was holding him at gunpoint.

“Never,” she repeated before the first bell rang.

“Oh no, we’re going to be late,” Fame whined.

“Not if you can run in heels,” Matt laughed, taking Violet’s hand as they rushed to their first class of the day.

———–

Seated at their favorite table in the center of the cafeteria, the most popular girls at the school chatted idly before being interrupted.

“Matthew James, I’ve reached my weekly limit of seeing your face,” Violet groaned as the boy pulled a chair up to their table.

“Then you’ll just have to increase your quota,” he smirked. “I’m actually here to speak to Max.”

“Really?” the grey-haired beauty beamed.

“Has anybody asked you to homecoming yet?”

“Brian McCook asked but… I was waiting for you,” she breathed.

“You were?” he scratched his head. “Willam Belli only asked me to ask you a few minutes ago.”

“W-What?”

“Do you want to go to homecoming with Willam?” he rephrased.

“Excuse me,” Maxine held back her tears as she pushed herself away from the table before rushing out of the cafeteria.

“Max,” Fame called before going after her.

“Tell Willam I’d go to homecoming with him,” Sharon shrugged before following the other two.

“I should go see what’s wrong,” Violet said as she stood up, only to be stopped by Matt’s hand on hers.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Matthew James, my friend is upset right now and I need to figure out why.”

“It’ll only take a minute,” he assured in a timid voice, gently pulling her back into her seat. “How was your weekend?”

She groaned in exasperation. “Dean Martin and his wife, Jeanne, came over. She wants another baby, but she’s afraid the dogs won’t adjust well to another child.”

“That’s interesting,” he admitted.

“It is,” she said condescendingly, finally snatching her hand away from his. “My life is very interesting.”

“I-I…um,” Matt’s thoughts became jumbled.

“Spit it out,” Violet rushed.

“That’s some dress,” he breathed.

“I could’ve told you that,” she laughed.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant to say.”

The girl gestured for him to continue.

“Me…I…that dress.”

“Pig,” she said intently as she pushed away from the table and stood up.

“Violet, wait,” the boy pleaded.

She paused before folding her arms impatiently.

“I don’t know what you do to me, but it’s so hard to express myself around you. I think you’re amazing and smart and beautiful a-and I don’t know…everything.”

“That’s awfully sweet, Matthew James,” Violet smiled sincerely. “But my friend needs me right now.”

———-

Tears streaming down her face, Maxine stormed into the bathroom.

“Max, it’ll be okay,” Fame cooed as she pulled her into an embrace.

“I-I do all this s-stuff,” she wept. “I h-have a perfect grade point average. I’m the l-leader of the theater troupe, president of student council. We make sure the football t-t-team has everything thing they need. I’m beautiful. W-Why doesn’t he seem to notice any of that?”

“That’s because boys are nasty dogs,” Sharon assured.

“He’d rather talk to that minx, Violet,” Maxine sniffled. “She’s been here all of two months and she’s just all over him.”

“Max, that’s not true,” Fame defended.

“Then why isn’t she in here with us?”

“Well,” the brunette frowned before cracking the bathroom door. “Oh boy.”

“What?” Max pushed her out of the way. Peeking through the fissure, Max clenched her jaw as Violet laughed. “Do you think he’s asking her to homecoming?” she gasped.

“That would be absolutely scandalous,” Sharon replied.

‘’Well, I’ve seen how he looks at her,” Fame admitted in a meek voice.

Maxine swiftly turned around and glared at the brunette with narrowed eyes. “That’s because she’s always making a pass at him,” she hissed. “I’m sick of it and something has to be done.”

Sharon agreed with a slight nod before tightening her black ponytail in the mirror.

“I don’t know,” the brunette hesitated.

“The three of us have been best friends for twelve years,” Maxine said sternly. “We will not let some call-girl ruin that just because her life is ritzy.”

“So what do you supposed we should do?” Fame asked.

“Research,” she gave a cunning smile. “Nobody’s that perfect and once Matt finds out, she’ll be old news.”

“And he’ll come running into your arms,” the raven-haired girl said sarcastically.

“That’s the plan,” Max replied in a sing-song voice.

“What are we supposed to say to her?” Fame grimaced.

“You don’t say anything because you’re a sap. After lunch we’ll just avoid her until we find something,” Maxine got out before Violet entered the bathroom.

“Hey, are you ok?” she asked Max.

“Oh, I’m fine darling,” the girl assured with a soft smile.

“Did Matt ask you to homecoming?” Sharon inquired.

“No,” Violet let out a breathy laugh. “But he did say he wasn’t able to think straight around me or something like that.”

“Hmm,” Maxine hummed. “Well ladies, let’s finish our lunches before the bell rings.”

“I’m pretty full,” the blonde turned to leave. “It really doesn’t take much with a waist like this,” she giggled.

Maxine forged a nasally laugh before communicating her disdain of the girl to her friends with a simple look.

———-

The last bell of the school day rang and Violet was the first to make it to the group’s mahogany table. After waiting an unusual five minutes, she pulled out her booklet and began to sketch a homecoming dress design.

“Is that a Picasso?” a familiar voice teased.

“Matthew James, this is a sketch for my designer,” Violet smiled without looking up from her work. “Why do you insist on hounding me?”

“You call it hounding, I call it persistence,” he chuckled as he settled into the seat across from her.

“No practice today?”

“The coaches are having a meeting, so practice won’t start for another hour,” Matt pulled out a blank sheet of paper and also began to draw; the beautiful blonde in front of him as the subject.

“You’re in Max’s seat.”

“Where are the other girls, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Violet shrugged. “This is the first time that they’ve stood me up.”

“How could anyone do such a thing?” Matt frowned.

“I don’t know. I felt an odd aura after lunch but it’s all Greek to me.”

“Hmph,” he grunted.

“What?” she giggled.

“Nothing,” he half smiled. “How was your day? How are you feeling?”

“I got compared to Marilyn Monroe. I met her last spring and she was a perfectly lovely woman; not as dim as people think.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” she looked up nervously.

“Whenever I ask ‘how are you?’, you end up talking about someone else or how glamorous your life is. I could care less about your mansion or your celebrity friends. I want to know about you.”

“Why?” Violet breathed as she returned her attention to her sketch. A cool Autumn breeze caused her to shiver before goosebumps appeared on her exposed ivory shoulders. “Trying to be cute, I abandoned my sweater in my locker,” she mumbled.

Immediately pulling off his letterman jacket, Matt stood and chivalrously draped it over Violet’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” she smiled. Self-conscious around the boy for the first time, Violet smoothed her hair and ensured that the ends were still curled tightly before he returned to his seat in front of her.

“I meant everything I said at lunch. You’re different from all the other girls here.”

“I don’t want to be different from the other girls,” she rushed.

“But you are. Not in a bad way, of course,” he blushed. “I’m pretty crazy about you.”

“And you want to know more about me?”

Matt nodded.

“Um,” her eyebrows furrowed as she attempted to establish reality from her rolodex of lies. “Every morning when I wake up, I pray that I will be accepted as the person I have become.”

“That’s beautiful,” he said although he didn’t fully understand what she meant.

There was a long pause, as she traced the blue veins on her pale wrist. “Do you think colored people’s blood is the same as our blood?”

“Do you think German Shepard blood is the same as Golden Retriever blood?” he replied sarcastically.

“No,” she frowned.

“Maybe that was a bad analogy,” his eyebrows furrowed.

“It was perfect,” she quickly stood and handed him his jacket before rushing away.

“Did I say something wrong?” he shouted after her.

“No,” Violet assured. “I just have to go.”

“Well, at least take the jacket!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she disappeared around the corner.

———-

“I wish this shack had better heating,” Violet complained as she entered the kitchen from her bedroom.

“The windows are drafty,” Lucinda informed, attempting to read the label on her new prescription medicine.

“Then have them fixed,” the girl rolled her eyes.

“I have been trying to make more money. But as a maid, even two jobs does not help sometimes. You make more money in a week than I do in a month.”

“My money goes toward my appearance,” she scoffed.

“Sí, bebé.” Yes, baby. “You always look so beautiful. I would never want to take away from that; I am your mother and I will always do my best to take care of you.”

“Mhm,” Violet hummed, mindlessly checking her nails.

“Juan asked about you today,” Lucinda informed before coughing blood into her handkerchief. “The milk boy.”

“The border bandit,” she scowled.

“He really is a nice young man. I would be so happy to see around someone like him.”

“Someone like him? Spanish? Busboys, custodians, chauffeurs; I’ve seen all the options someone like him has. No thank you.”

“I do not want to fight with you tonight, bebé. I don’t feel very well. Will you read this label for me?”

Violet hummed as she warmed her hands near the pot belly stove.

“¿Por favor?” Please?

The blonde let out a loud exhale before sauntering over and grabbing the bottle from her mother’s hand. “Mechlorethamine; take one every four hours. Alkalizing agent,” she read. “What is this for?”

“Nothing that you need to worry about right now. Just a l-”

“I really need to finish the sketch of my dress,” the girl returned the bottle.

“I start a new house tonight,” Lucinda called after her before the thump of the door concluded their communication for the rest of the night.

———-

Lucinda quickly made her way up the winding cobblestone path to the two-story Tuscan styled home. Making it to the door, she knocked before blowing warm air into her gloves.

“Hi,” Matt greeted with a bright smile. “Come on in.”

“I enter through the backdoor.”

“That’s utter nonsense,” he scoffed. “Hurry, it’s pretty chilly outside.”

Shocked by his demeanor, Lucinda’s guard was up as she entered and was asked for her coat.

“I told my old lady we needed help around here months ago. But I’m seventeen, what do I know?”

Lucinda smiled before coughing into handkerchief.

“Are you okay? Can I get you anything to drink?” the boy offered.

“You are too kind but no, thank you. I better get started.”

Matt gave her a skeptical look before giving her a tour of his southern California home.

“I just had a few of my teammates over for dinner, so the kitchen is a little messy but that’s nothing compared to this,” he gestured for her to follow him. Leading Lucinda to his bedroom, Matt hesitantly flipped the light switch.

“Ay Dios mio,” Oh my God, her eyes grew wide. The sight of the mountain of laundry, athletic equipment thrown about and trash strewn about the floor, it was almost too much for the woman to handle.

“I’m sorry,” Matt grimaced. “I’ve tried to clean it but I don’t know where to begin.”

“It is okay,” Lucinda assured. “I will start with the…” she paused at the sketch on the nightstand. A beautiful blonde in a fitted dress, he captured her sorrow as she gazed at the setting sun. “You drew this?”

“Guilty,” the boy rubbed the back of his neck. “I call it ‘Dejections of a Goddess’,” he grinned.

“Beautiful,” she exhaled. “I will get started.”

Matt grabbed her hand. “You are a lifesaver, thank you. If you need anything just holler,” he chuckled before returning to the living room to complete his homework.

———-

“Your room is nice now,” Lucinda smiled as she descended the stairs.

“Sweet,” Matt grinned.

“I need to go before I miss my bus,” she rushed before dropping her purse; spilling its contents.

“I’ll get it.”

He bent down and grabbed her wallet that had flopped open, exposing the photo of the dark haired beauty that was her daughter.

“Who is this?” the boy asked.

“My daughter,” she said proudly. “Her name is Veradisia.”

“I thought it was Elizabeth Taylor,” he chuckled as he returned the wallet and her other belongings.

“She would love to hear that,” Lucinda smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

———-

Violet couldn’t understand the fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach when she saw Matt in the spot where she usually met her friends in the mornings.

“Good morning,” the boy flashed a killer smile.

“Hi,” Violet breathed. “I have warmth today,” she smirked before giving him a twirl in her cream coat trimmed in matching white rabbit fur with pale pink poodle skirt to compliment the look.

“It’s pretty swanky. You look beautiful…you always look beautiful.”

“It’s a talent,” she giggled.

“Do you want to have breakfast with me and the fellas?”

“I should probably wait for the girls.”

“I just saw them in the cafeteria a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows furrowed.

“Shall we?” he grinned as he offered his arm.

Violet let out a breathy laugh. “I suppose,” she wrapped her arm around his. Matt pulled her close and escorted her to the cafeteria.

———-

As she entered the eating area, she caught a glimpse of the girls slipping out of the back door.

“Wha-”

“Do you want to go with them?” Matt asked.

“No,” she exhaled. “I’ll see them in homeroom.”

“Okay,” the boy beamed as he led her to his table. “Guys, you know Violet.”

“Of course we know Violet!” Willam chuckled.

“All we hear is ‘Guys, she’s just so perfect,’” Brian mocked Matthew in a nasally voice.

“I do not,” Matt blushed.

“Once before a game, Matt asked us ‘what do you think Violet’s doing right now?’ and we told him ‘thinking about you’ and we won,” Jake cackled.

“Really?” Violet giggled. “How cute.”

“Yeah,” Matt flushed tomato red as he helped her into her seat. “Do you want hotcakes?” he quickly changed the subject.

“I’ll take an apple, thank you.”

“Coming right up,” the boy said as he shot warning glances to his friends before making his way to the salad bar.

“Do you like Matt?” Brian Firkus asked.

“Has he asked you to homecoming?” Jake inquired.

“When are ya gonna to kiss?” Willam added.

“Yes. No. And no comment,” she laughed.

“Did Max ever respond to Matt asking her to homecoming for me?” Willam asked.

“I’m not sure,” Violet’s eyebrows knitted together. “I haven’t seen much of any of my friends lately.”

“Girl drama,” Jake blew a raspberry.

“They’re probably just really busy with homecoming preparations. It’s Friday ya know.”

“But aren’t you a part of student council too?” Brian asked. “You should be included.”

“I’ll talk to them,” she assured.

“Matt told us you ditched him to hang out with Dean Martin,” the blonde boy frowned.

“That’s not what happened,” Violet chuckled.

“How is Dean?”

“Is he cool like he is in the movies?”

“Have you met Frank Sinatra too?”

“His wife Ava is a knockout,” the brunette whistled.

“Hey!” Matt returned. “Stop pestering the lady.” He handed Violet the fresh red apple.

“Thank you. And it’s okay,” Violet assured reveling in the attention.

“No it isn’t. I don’t want you guys bombarding my gal,” he smirked.

“Your gal?” Brian raised an eyebrow.

“Only in your dreams Matthew James,” Violet exaggerated an eye roll.

“Quick! Somebody catch his face!” Willam cackled, causing the other boys to erupt in laughter.

“Wait, I have a save,” Matt grabbed Violet’s hand. “If you’re only my gal in my dreams, then you surely are mine. Because anything as beautiful as you couldn’t be real.”

“Ah, applesauce!” Jake heckled.

“That was terrible,” Brian chuckled.

“I thought it was sweet,” Violet assured.

“And that’s all that matters,” Matt smiled smugly.

———-

After the first bell rang, Violet linked arms with Matt once again as he escorted her to their first class. When she saw that the seats of her friends were vacant, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Mrs. Ward, do you know where Max, Sharon, and Fame are?”

“They got passes to the library,” the teacher replied.

“For student council stuff?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Hm,” she frowned.

Matt gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before they took their seats.

———-

“Why do you think they’re avoiding me?” Violet asked Matt as they exited the classroom.

“I don’t know. Max has always been an odd broad, but now I think she’s downright looney if she’s avoiding you.”

“I want to get to the bottom of this and soon.”

“Well, it’ll have to wait because you’re coming to Pop’s with me after school today,” he smiled smugly.

“Is that so?” she raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yes. Unless you’d rather hang out with Gene Kelly…”

“I suppose you’re cuter than Gene,” she teased.

“Then it’s a date,” he kissed her cheek and rushed to his next class before she could protest.

“Matthew James,” she blushed.

———-

“Ah, Matty,” his friends exaggerated pouts after practice. “You’re the first one out of all of us to bring a dame to Pop’s.”

“They grow up so fast,” Jake wiped an invisible tear from his cheek.

“Shut up,” Matt emphasized each word. “She’s a dreamboat, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s a cookie. But you better get her to eat a cheeseburger before her waist disappears,” Willam chortled.

“I’m gonna tell her you said that,” Matt shrugged.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he gave his friend a light shove.

“Here she is now,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Matt wrapped his arm around Violet’s shoulder and began to whisper in her ear. “You look stunning.”

“He’s lying! I didn’t say it!” Willam shouted.

———-

The group slid into the first red and chrome booth at Pop’s Malt Shop and propped their menus open.

“So, whatcha ordering, Pumpkin?” Matt asked Violet.

“Pumpkin?!” his friends squawked in unison.

“Don’t mind them, they’re a bunch of numbskulls.”

“So are you two rationed or what?” Jake asked.

“Um,” Violet looked at Matt. “Not quite steady but…”

“Matt you have to make it official!” Brian demanded.

“Let her wear your damn letterman jacket for an entire school day,” Willam nodded.

“I’d let this girl wear my jacket for the rest of my life, but when she can pick up the phone and call Rock Hudson at any given moment…”

“It’s not that,” Violet sighed.

“Well we’re here for kicks, not to grill you,” Brian said apologetically.

“I’m getting a double cheeseburger,” Matt changed the subject.

“Let’s share a strawberry shake,” Violet smiled.

“Why strawberry?” he grimaced.

“Because it’s pink,” she giggled.

“Such a doll,” Jake shook his head.

“Find yourself one,” Matt stuck out his tongue.

After their orders had been delivered Violet took a long sip of the shake before glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Mm!” she jumped up.

“Is it that good?” Matt asked.

“I have to go,” she rushed as she grabbed her books.

“Why?” the other boys frowned.

“My chauffeur is waiting on me.”

“We could take you home,” Matt suggested. “Brian has a car.”

“I don’t think my father will like that very much,” Violet let out a breathy laugh.

“But wha-” he was silenced when she pecked his cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised. “Goodbye boys!” she blew a kiss causing the boys to fight over who caught it.

“What a dame,” Matt blushed.

Rushing down the street, Violet made it to the stop just in time for her first bus.

———

“Hola, Violeta,” Juan greeted from the back of the bus when Violet made her third transfer.

Ignoring him, Violet sat in her usual space. Juan moved to the seat behind her and began to speak. “There’s a party at the seam tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go.”

No response.

“Violeta?” he tapped her shoulder.

“Leave me alone, wetback!” she shouted causing the bus driver to stomp on the brakes.

“Is he bothering you, ma’am?” he asked.

“He touched me!” Violet screeched.

“Get off,” the driver demanded as he pulled the lever that opened the door.

“But my stop isn’t for another three miles,” he pleaded. “I won’t bother her again.”

“Get off or I’ll call the police!”

Juan quickly exited through the back door and was suffocated by the dust the tires of the bus kicked up as it pulled away.

———-

“Good afternoon, Violet,” Lucinda smiled.

“Hispanic trash,” Violet mumbled before storming into her bedroom and slamming the door.

“I have to go into work early today,” she announced. “There is a plate for you on the stove. I love you.”

Coughing uncontrollably, Lucinda pulled on her coat and headed out the door.

———-

“Come in, come in,” Matt urged Lucinda. “My mom called you in early because she’s throwing a party tomorrow, but I have questions.”

“Questions?” she repeated as she grabbed the broom.

“Yes,” he followed her as she began to sweep. “You know that daughter that you have?”

“Yes,” she chuckled.

“What’s her favorite thing ever?”

“Fashion.”

“Favorite candy?”

“Salt wa-” she couched. “Wat-”

Matt immediately grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it with water. “Here,” he offered Lucinda.

“I can’t drink out of your glass,” she wheezed. “I’m the help.”

“Yes you can,” he urged.

“No, I-”

“We are friends and my friends use the dishes.”

Lucinda hesitantly accepted the water and took a sip.

“You sit down, I’ll sweep.”

She shook her head. “This is my job.”

“And as my friend, I’m allowed to help you,” Matt frowned. “Besides you have to answer my questions.”

Feeling lightheaded, she finally sat down and drank the water. The boy asked question after question; unbeknownst to Lucinda, inquiring about the girl of his dreams.

———-

“Hi-de-ho, gorgeous,” Matt beamed when he saw Violet the next morning.

“What is this?” she giggled at the vase filled with saltwater taffies and long stemmed pink lilies.

“For you,” he handed it to her.

“How did you know I liked lilies?”

“I have my ways,” he grinned.

“And taffy,” she smiled.

“You’re sweeter,” Matt smirked.

“What is this all about?” she rolled her eyes.

“I want you to make me the luckiest boy in this school by going to homecoming with me.”

“Matthew James,” she said in a meek tone. “I couldn’t imagine going with anyone else.”

“Did you hear that?”

“What?” her eyebrows knitted together.

“My heart just skipped a beat,” he grinned.

“You are the worst at feeding lines,” she laughed. “But it’s adorable.”

“I’ll take that,” he smiled before grabbing her hand. “Let’s get breakfast.”

———-

Over the next few days, Maxine, Sharon, and Fame continued to avoid Violet while the blonde used her spare time to get closer to Matt.

“This is the final straw,” Maxine said through clenched teeth upon learning whom Matt had asked to the dance. “Fame, give me your car keys,” she ordered. “We have a chauffeur to follow.”

———-

“Today was a good day,” Violet smiled to herself when she entered her home.

“Your manager Alyssa called,” Lucinda informed. “She said your fabric arrived, so I picked it up for you.”

Violet froze. “What did you say?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“I told her I was your housekeeper,” her mother sighed.

“Thank you.”

“No hay problema.” No problem.

Violet ran to her bedroom excitedly. Yanking the top off of the big box, she gasped at the sight of the beautiful material.

“Do you want help sewing?” Lucinda asked from the doorway.

“Sure,” Violet said hesitantly. “Go wash your hands.”

“Ok, darling,” she smiled; happy to spend any amount of time with daughter.

———-

“Tú estás tan hermosa,” You look so beautiful, Lucinda said with tears in her eyes as her daughter emerged on homecoming night.

“Isn’t it fabulous?”

Strapless and fitted at the bodice with a full skirt, the Swarovski crystal encrusted dress sparkled at every angle.

“I have to go,” Violet grabbed her masquerade mask and white fur shawl.

“Wait, I have something for you,” Lucinda rushed to her bedroom and returned with a pearl necklace. “This belonged to your great- grandmother. Her husband found each pearl himself off of the coast of Esmeraldas in Ecuador. I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok. It’s jewelry,” Violet rolled her eyes as she allowed her mother to hook the clasp around her neck.

“Perfect,” she beamed as she took in her daughter’s beauty.

“I’ll see you later,” the girl sauntered towards the door.

“I love you,” Lucinda coughed.

Violet’s nonexistent reply was sealed by the slamming of the front door.

———-

Pulling her crystallized mask onto her face before she entered her school’s gym, Violet was immediately spotted by Matt.

“How did you recognize me?” she giggled.

“Ah, clam up. I know that you like sparkly stuff and this thing is like a walking light bulb.”

“Matthew,” she gasped as she gave him a playful shove.

“In a good way!” he chuckled. “Plus, I took a peek at your sketch.”

“Alright wise guy,” she smiled. “Let’s dance.”

Matt placed one hand on Violet’s waist and the other was interlocked in hers as Unforgettable by Nat King Cole played in the background.

“Violet?” he asked nervously.

“Yes?”

“You know I like you, right?”

“I think so,” she teased.

“And I hope you like me, the way I like you?”

“I think so,” she giggled.

“Will you be my gal?”

“I already thought I was your gal, Matthew James.”

“I’m making it official,” he chuckled.

“I want a ring,” she smirked.

“I’ll give you the world,” he breathed before pressing his lips against hers.

“Well, this next song is dedicated to my good friend, Violet,” they heard Sharon say into microphone. “It’s called The Great Pretender by the Platters.”

“Oh no,” Violet exhaled.

“She’s a spic!” Maxine burst into the gym. “Violet’s mother is a full spic and she’s been fooling us all. Especially you Matt.”

“I haven’t been fooled by anyone, Max,” the boy scowled. “You’re making yourself seem kooky.”

“We followed you home to your little shack and you’ve never met a celebrity in your life,” Fame added.

“You’re a filthy Spaniard!” the grey-haired girl spat.

“I’m white!” Violet assured.

“You’re disgusting!” Max lunged at her. She managed to strip the full skirt off of the bodice of Violet’s dress before Matt restrained her. Fame, followed by Sharon, rushed over to continue the attack on the blonde. Bruising her face, yanking their claws through her hair and ripping away her mother’s pearls, Violet was a hysterical mess by the time Matt and a few good samaritans separated the girls.

Draped in only her slip and undergarments, Violet ran out of the gym as fast as her shaking legs would carry her.

“Pumpkin, wait!” Matt chased after. Finally catching up to his girlfriend, the boy grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled the weeping girl close.

“I’m white, I’m white,” she wept as she pulled away.

“Violet, it’s okay,” the boy attempted to soothe her. “Your nose is bleeding,” he frowned before draping his suit’s jacket over her exposed skin. He ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and pressed it to her nose. “It’s really cool out here, let me get you home or somewhere warm.”

“I’m never going home! I’m never going back to school! And it’s all because of my mother.”

“Lucinda is an amazing woman.”

“You knew?” Violet stared deeply into the boy’s eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because that doesn’t matter to me. I think you’re beautiful inside and out.”

“Please don’t say such things,” she wept. “I have colored blood inside me.”

“There is no such thing as colored blood!” Matt punched the cement wall, deliberately splitting his knuckle. “Look,” he placed his hand in hers. “We both bleed red.”

“It’s not enough,” she cried. She ripped the trim of her slip and wrapped it around his hand. “Why did this happen tonight? Because being colored is a curse and I’ll never be free until I get away from her.”

“Violet,” he pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I have to get out of here,” the girl said through a waterfall of tears. “I love you,” she kissed him before running away.

“Violet!” Matt attempted to chase after her. “Violet, I love you!” he got out before she disappeared underneath the cloak of the nighttime sky.

———-

Upon hearing the news about her daughter, a devastated Lucinda was determined to find her before it was too late.

———-

Two weeks later, Lucinda’s cab pulled in front of a risque club. “Are you sure this is the place?”

“Yes. This is The Cat’s Meow; hottest burlesque joint in town.”

“T-Thank you,” she paid her fare.

Entering the club in the middle of a group performance, Lucinda immediately spotted her daughter as she unzipped her dress.

“Mi pobre bebé,” My poor baby, she clutched her chest.

“Can I help you?” the burly security guard asked Lucinda.

“My daughter is up there,” she said in a broken voice.

“I’ve heard that a lot of times, but never from somebody that looks like you.”

Lucinda watched in horror as Violet slowly undid her corset.

“Look lady,” the man continued. “Your kind is bad for business, so let’s go,” he gestured towards the exit.

“Not without my baby,” she stood her ground.

“I’m just doing my job,” the man replied. “She’s probably through anyways. Once the boss has his way with ‘em he tosses the boring ones.”

Lucinda’s stomach contorted at the thought. “Thank you,” she slowly nodded before exiting the club.

———–

“Good show, dollface,” the club’s middle-aged owner pinched Violet’s side.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

“You coming up to my room tonight?” he pulled her out of the club and locked the door.

“Sure,” she replied in a meek tone. “I have to thank you somehow.”

“Veradisia,” Lucinda said sternly.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“I’m her mother.”

“Your mother?” he looked at Violet.

“This woman must be crazy. I’ve never seen her before in my life,” she replied.

“Deja de mentir. Tú sólo harás daño a sí mismo.” Stop lying. You are only hurting yourself.

“Hey, get that damn hocus pocus away from my club,” the man demanded.

“If you don’t allow her to come home with me, I’ll have the police down here. She is only seventeen.”

“You told me you were twenty-one,” he backed away.

“She’s lying! How could I be her daughter? Do I even look like I could be her daughter?”

“I’m not getting caught up in the underage mess again, beat it,” the man walked off.

“Do you know how much it hurts me to see you in a dirty place like this? You have to go back to school so you can make something of yourself,” Lucinda pleaded.

“I’ll be able to make something of myself if you just leave me alone! Don’t you understand that?!”

Feeling lightheaded, Lucinda eased herself onto the stoop of the neighboring building.

Violet let out a long exhale before kneeling in front of her. “I never meant to hurt you, Lucinda.”

“I know, baby. You’re just like a puppy that’s been cooped up too much… and maybe I’m to blame. I tried to protect you, to teach you…but how do you explain to a child that she was born to be hurt?”

Violet burst into tears. “I-I remember when I was f-four years old. We were walking down the s-street and a white woman spat on you. And you a-a-acted as if nothing had happened,” she accused. “I was so angry and to this day it haunts me. From that moment on, I was determined to never be like you.”

“Had I retaliated, I would have been killed and you would have been an orphan; a Spanish orphan. Every decision I make is with you in mind,” a few tears escaped before she wiped them away. “You want a better life…by denying who you are. If that’s what makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way any longer. Have you been happy since you’ve been gone?”

“I have,” she sniffled. “I have a new life…I’m somebody else…I’m white.”

“And to keep that up, I’ll have to stay away,” Lucinda realized.

“Yes,” Violet pleaded. “And by chance, if you ever pass me on the street, please don’t recognize me.”

“I understand,” her mother ignored the physical pain in her chest. “There’s just one thing I want before I go. If you ever want to come home…and you can’t seem to contact me, please call Matthew Lent. He still loves you so much.”

The girl nodded.

“That was only the first part of my request,” she smiled. “I’d also like to hold you in my arms once more, like you were still my little happy baby.”

Violet let out a lungful of air. “Alright.”

Lucinda wrapped her arms around her daugher. “Te amo demasiado. Jamás dejaré de amarte.” I love you so much. Nothing could ever stop that.

“Mamá,” she cried as she threw her arms around her.

“Violet?” a female voice inquired.

Quickly standing up and wiping her mascara stained cheeks, she turned to face her friend from the club. “Hey, Bettie.”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s my fault,” Lucinda said as she pushed herself off of the steps. “I was in town and stopped by to see Miss Violet. I used to take care of her when she was a baby,” she breathed. “I should probably get going…take care of yourself honey. Goodbye, Violet.”

“Goodbye,” she exhaled. Mamá she said barely audible.

“Well, look at you honey boo, you had a mammy,” the girl teased as Lucinda walked away.

“Yes,” Violet exhaled as she pressed her back against the grimy building. “All my life.”

———-

“If I want to spend my Winter break here to take care of you, rather than my mother’s parties, then I will,” Matt said sternly as he sat at the foot of Lucinda’s bed.

“I found out how persistent you were three months ago when I first started cleaning your house,” she chuckled before coughing blood into her handkerchief.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Lung cancer,” she sighed.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Matt’s eyes began to sting.

“Because it would’ve only made things worse. I didn’t need my daughter worrying about anything.”

“I don’t think Violet will ever know how lucky she is, to have had a great mother like you.”

“Great mother,” she scoffed. “She wants nothing to do with me.”

“She’s just confused.”

“You knew I was Violet’s mother from the beginning didn’t you?”

“I recognized her photo,” he sighed. “She was even more beautiful with dark hair. I didn’t say anything because I realized how important her identity was to her. I don’t care about that stuff…I just love her.”

“I hope she finds happiness. Will you find her and help her?”

“I’ll try,” he promised.

“Find her, Matt.”

———-

“She’s been working at a club called the Silver Slipper in Las Vegas for the past few months,” the private investigator slid Matt a large envelope.

Matt exhaled as he pulled out the photos. Cladded in skimpy showgirl outfits and heavy layers of makeup, Violet was barely recognizable and it broke his heart. “How long does it take to get to Las Vegas?”

“On the train, it’s a full day’s trip-”

“Then I’ll fly…I’m in a hurry.”

———-

After convincing his parents that his football team was traveling to Las Vegas for a mid-year camping trip, Matt was able to pay for a last minute flight to the city of sin.

Map in hand, he walked The Strip in search of the beautiful girl that had eluded him for the past three months.

“Hey, handsome,” a scantily clad woman puffed her cigarette before grabbing his arm.

“Hi,” Matt breathed as he attempted to pull away.

“You busy tonight?” she blew smoke into his face.

“I’m seventeen,” he coughed.

“That’s not a problem, baby. Money is money.”

Snatching his arm away in disgust, Matt stormed off before stopping. “Do you know where I can find the Silver Slipper?”

“Yeah, I work there some nights. Why?”

“I’m looking for a girl named Violet.”

“I know Violet,” she exhaled perfect smoke rings. “She’s a little kooky but nice enough.”

“Kooky?”

“She’s always going on and on about how she loves being white and how fantastic her life is because she’s so beautiful and pale.”

“Can you tell me how to get to the club?”

The woman smirked. “Violet’s a little old for you isn’t she?”

“She’s my sister,” he lied. “I just need to see her.”

“Well that’s sweet,” the woman tossed her cigarette. “Follow me.”

———-

She led him down a few blocks and around the back of a building topped with a massive high heeled shoe.

“Hey, beau,” she greeted the bouncer.

“Who’s this?” he gestured towards Matt.

“Violet’s little brother.”

“Ahh,” the man nodded. “She’s getting ready for her last number now,” he said before opening the door. “Woo, that girl can move.”

Matt looked at him through narrowed eyes as he followed the woman into the club.

“Hey, ladies,” she greeted the group of practically nude girls. Matt turned red and quickly looked down at his Converse. “This is um–what’s your name honey?”

“Matt,” he mumbled.

“Hi, Matt,” they hooted and hollered.

“He’s seventeen,” the woman chuckled.

“So!” someone blurted.

“Better than sixteen,” another catcalled.

“Where is Violet?”

“In the bunks.”

“Just go down those stairs; it’ll be a smaller dressing room,” she directed. “I need to get back outside. I’m losing money.”

“Thank you.”

She gave his butt a firm tap. “Come and see me when you’re eighteen,” she winked before exiting.

Head bowed, Matt continued to look at his shoes as he made his way through the room. He tripped a few times but made it through the heckling women in one piece. Slowly descending the stairs, Matt saw the familiar blonde hair in the mirror, applying her eyeliner with a steady hand.

“Violet,” he breathed.

“Matt,” she gasped at his reflection in her mirror. “How did you find me? Why are-” she jumped up. “Is Lucinda with you? Has she made me lose this job too?” Violet snatched her costumes off of the racks and stuffed them into a small suitcase. “I hate her.”

“Lucinda isn’t here and you mustn’t say such things…she’s ill,” Matt sighed.

“She’s ill?” the girl scoffed. “I’m ill! I’m sick, I’m tired and I want to be left alone.”

“Violet, what is all of this? What are you doing in a low-class place like this?”

“I have to support myself and this is easiest way. I’m physically blessed…a beautiful face…a great figure…and white skin.”

“Are you still stuck on that?” he asked sternly. “You’d be beautiful with any skintone.”

“That’s a lie,” she frowned. “And I can name three wonderful girls who’d agree with me.”

“Max, Fame and Sharon got expelled from South, you’ll never have to see them again. Violet, please don’t let their ignorance influence your opinion on everyone else; everyone isn’t prejudice. I’ve been telling my parents about you since the moment that I saw you and when they found out, it didn’t matter.”

She paused. “Really?”

“Yes,” Matt walked closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. “They love your mother and know that anyone raised by her has to be an amazing person. And you are,” he pulled her close.

“Don’t,” she pushed him away.

“I want you to come home.”

“Never,” she scowled.

“And if I tell you to come home?”

“What makes you think you have that right?”

“Because I love you,” he replied intently. “And I refuse to watch you hurt yourself anymore.”

“Then run away with me,” she pleaded. “Let’s go to France.”

“I can’t,” Matt sighed. “I’m the only person your mother has and she’s so sick. I don’t want to be away from her too long, that’s why you must come with now.”

Violet returned to the vanity.

“You’ll never understand what it’s like. Maybe someday you’ll figure it out…but until then…I don’t know,” she exhaled as she applied her blush. “I’m going to live out my life the way I was meant to and nobody is going to stop me.”

“So that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Matt looked at her reflection through narrowed eyes. “Your problem isn’t with being color…it’s with being the most impeccably selfish human being I’ve ever met,” he spat before storming back up the stairs.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Violet threw her brush at the vanity, shattering the mirror. “You’ll never understand,” her hands muffled her cries. “I don’t even understand.”

———-

After returning home, Matt’s first stop was Lucinda’s house.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” she wheezed. “How is my baby?”

“She’s living her life the way she wants to live it. That’s all I can say.”

“I hope she’s happy,” she exhaled.

“Me too.”

“And I hope the two of you meet again someday,” she gave a soft smile.

“I think I’ll write her a letter,” Matt nodded.

“That’s nice. And in your letter, can you tell her I said hello?”

“Of course,” the boy assured.

“And tell her I’m sorry…if I was selfish…in loving her too much…”

“Coming from a mother, is too much love such a thing?” Matt chuckled as he stared at his Converse. “Hm?” he inquired when she didn’t reply. “Lucinda? Lucinda!”

———-

Auctioning off Violet’s wardrobe after he had convinced people the dresses had been worn by famous Hollywood actresses, Matt was able to help pay for his Lucinda’s modest funeral. Attended by his family, entire football team, and anyone else her kindness had touched, the ceremony was full of sorrow as the Trouble of the World instrumental played.

“Her own daughter,” Matt wept as he snuggled against his mother.

———-

As the pallbearers closed the door to the hearse, the procession was set to begin.

“You okay?” Brian asked Matt.

“Yeah, I hate that this had happened to such an incredible lady.”

“I got to kno-”

“Wait!” Violet ran over to the hearse and swung the door open. “Mamá!” she embraced the coffin. “Mamá, I’m sorry,” she cried. “¡¿Puedes oírme?! Can you hear me?! I did love you… I’m so sorry,” she choked.

“Violet,” Matt gently grabbed her shoulders. “She loved you so much.”

The girl flung her arms around his neck as she wept. “I-I got your letter. I’m so sorry. I k-killed my mother. My mother,” she acknowledged for the first time before crying hysterically.

“She just wanted you to be happy, even if that meant never seeing you again,” Matt breathed.

“I’ll get better and I’ll make her proud.”

Matt kissed her forehead. “I missed you.”

“Thank you for loving me when I didn’t even love myself…I still don’t know how.”

“I promised your mother that I would help you.”

“She always looked out for me…loved me,” a fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes.

“Now it’s my job,” Matt wrapped his arms around her.


End file.
